


the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun

by Melusine11



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Assassination mentions, Banishment, Crime, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Mythology - Freeform, Passage of time, Slow Burn, Weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine11/pseuds/Melusine11
Summary: In a galaxy of gods and goddesses, Rey misses the sun. The warmth of it upon her skin, the hazy waves it would make above the sand of her old home, Jakku. Banished, sentenced to serve as a long term guardian of Kamino for assassinating a fellow god. She serves her time in exile, cut off from the other gods and goddesses until she's called upon to serve as host to another god.Ben Solo. Son of Alderaan. Powerful, and good, and the god other gods placed their hopes upon. They had met him once at a fete. Just a brief exchange of greetings and one shared dance. She has no illusions that he will remember her, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t want him here, she likes being mostly alone and far away from those that hold power in the Inner Rim. Him being here is only likely to bring strife.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 15
Kudos: 93
Collections: To Rapture the Earth and the Seas: the 2020 Reylo Fanfiction Anthology





	the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 

Rey lounges, stretched across luxurious fabrics as the rain pelts down against her window. It’s soothing, and part of her. With a twist of her wrist she could end the storms, but even then a gentle mist of rain will still fall. This planet knows nothing but rain, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s been dreary here for as long as her memory stretches, which is quite a significant amount of time. 

She misses the sun. The warmth of it upon her skin, the hazy waves it would make above the sand of her old home, Jakku. She wonders who watches over her little oasis of a planet now, who is providing rain or any type of guardianship for it. She’s been cut off from most of the other gods for so long now, she knows none of the names of the ones who have risen up after her sentence was handed down. She could leave, her sentence has been fulfilled, but the thought of leaving fills her with dread, and Rey has never been one to ignore her instincts and gut feelings. 

Outside a storm begins to swell, the sound of the wind and the rain and the waves pick up. The door to her room slides open.

“Rey,” Rose sighs her name and Rey turns to watch one of her only friends stare balefully out the window. “You’ve already heard the news then?”

“What news?” Rey asks, rising from her spot and crossing the room to the refreshment table. Rose clicks her tongue and Rey smiles just a little. They had met nearly a century ago when Rose was on a tour of the galaxy, and when the Kaminoians warned her away from the towering structure that served as Rey’s prison turned home, she couldn’t stay away. A minor deity, tasked with checking in on Mid and Outer Rim planets, blessed with an abundance of hope, but a spine like steel. She was Rey’s first friend in a long time. A true friend, never one to mince words.

“Ah,” Rose pauses and joins Rey, pouring herself a glass of sweet wine. “We’re to have company. Long term.”

“Who?”

“Ben Solo.”

Rey almost inhales her drink in shock. “No,” she coughs the word and Rose gives her a tight smile. 

“Check your messages,” Rose instructs, then pulls out a chair to sit, watching Rey stiffly move across the room.

Ben Solo. Son of Alderaan. Powerful, and good, and the god other gods placed their hopes upon. She had met him once at a fete. Just a brief exchange of greetings and one shared dance. It was her first and last, so it was memorable, he was memorable. She has no illusions that he will remember her, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t want him here, she likes being mostly alone and far away from those that hold power in the Inner Rim. Him being here is only likely to bring strife. 

The missive is succinct and lacking any sort of details, but that doesn’t matter. Gods don’t get banished to Kamino every century. It's a nightmare and a half to do it, to attempt to sever the bond of a planet and a god and place them on a planet without loyalties. She’s the last one in living memory, so to have another - she wonders what he’s done. 

“Tomorrow,” Rey grumbles, tossing her data pad down onto her bed, nudging it away with her toes, regretting the day Rose brought it here for her. Before that, during her sentence and solitude, it had been contraband, but Rose had grown tired of always being the one to relay news. She traveled off planet, her normal list of routine stops, along with one extra. Rose spoke to Amylin Holdo on Rey’s behalf, she’s a benevolent goddess, who determined Rey had at least served her sentence to fulfillment of having minimal contact with the other gods, and she should at least be able to keep up with the news. It had been so long though, that Rey had little interest in the device, so it remains mostly untouched, and quiet. She’s truly not interested in them, only keeping in touch with Rose when she’s away, and Rey is sure she’s mostly faded from the memories of the other gods anyway.

“Well,” Rose smiles and stands. “Let’s at least enjoy the day.”

* * *

He arrives with a hurricane. It jolts Rey awake, the storm surge spiking across her consciousness and goosebumps rising on her skin. She stumbles out of her rooms and rushes towards the landing pad. He’s there, flanked by more guards than had escorted her here. 

“You are Rey of Jakku?” the guard in front asks, though it’s more of a shout through the deluge of rain.

“I am,” she answers, still hovering in the open doorway. Behind her she feels the giant gentle presence of a Kamiinoian. For a long time they feared her, she knows some still do, not truly understanding her power, or the power of any gods. For the most part across the galaxy mortals are content to worship their chosen few and keep their distance, unless they need help. Here though, the ones that live and work in the complex she occupies have slowly but surely come around to her, it probably helps that she appears small to them, and human. She likes their disregard for her. As much as she misses Jakku sometimes, feeling the weight of the mortal’s needs was a lot, so here, where they don’t send up prayers and follow superstitions, at least not to her, she found peace, and continues to revel in it. At least she had, until now. 

“Another?” they ask, and Rey nods. “Looks like trouble.” 

Rey silently agrees, watching as Ben Solo is dragged to where she stands, fighting all the way. Lightning arcs across the sky and Rey grits her teeth, attempting to wrestle the storm back under her command. 

He’s bound, wrists together and a thick metal collar around his neck, connected to an uncomfortable looking bar gag trapped between his teeth. His eyes are wild when they meet her own and she sees the young banished goddess she used to be when she arrived reflected there. It feels strange, after all this time, to greet someone else the way she had been.

Rey pushes down the uncomfortable knot in her chest and holds his gaze. “Welcome to Kamino,” she greets, sickly sweet, then turns to the guards. “You’re dismissed, we can take him from here.”

“My lady, he’s a dangerous criminal,” the one who had spoken earlier objects.

A grin twists her lips. “Then he’s in good company.” It takes a moment for the words to settle as the thunder rolls, and an even shorter moment before they’re releasing their captive and scrambling back towards their ship. She doesn’t even bother to watch them leave, pulling Ben inside and out of the storm, where he drips a puddle onto the floor. 

“Toona, the keys, please,” Rey requests, and the tall creature bows their head before striding away. “Don’t worry,” she says to Ben who is glaring at her. “We’ll get you out of all of that and I’m sure they have dreams of me locking you up in a nice cramped cell, but that won’t be happening.” 

She shivers as another storm starts up, this time nearly half the planet away. “You need to calm down,” she growls now, watching in minor satisfaction as Ben’s eyes grow wide for a fraction of a second.

“Sorry for the delay,” Toona says, placing the keys into Rey’s hands and then backing away. “I’ll be near if you have a need.”

“Thanks,” Rey says, already pushing up onto her toes and moving Ben’s hair out of the way. The collar and gag pop free with a hiss, and she gently eases it out of his mouth and off of his person, letting it fall to the floor before working on the manacles around his wrists.

She watches him clench his hands and release them, then he reaches up and rubs gently at the back of his neck. Slowly Rey feels the storm sputter and cease and she relaxes just a bit. He’s a mess, she observes, his face is all sharp lines and his complexion is sallow. He looks like he’s been dragged everywhere, a bruise is turning green around his left eye and he moves gingerly, like he’s hurt in more places. His dark hair is a mess, and she’s sure cleaning up will do wonders for him, he’s going to need time to become less like a wraith and more like the Ben she knew once before.

“Ready for the tour?” she asks when Ben finally looks back at her. His answering grunt is enough for her to make her way down the pristine white hallway. “This way, though I will admit there isn’t too much to see, at least compared to where you’re coming from.”

“What would you even know about it,” he mocks, voice low and rough.

Rey glances back at him and clicks her tongue. “We’ve met before, once. An age or more ago.” He keeps his eyes focused on the floor, but she can see the slight furrowing of his brow. His answer is another grunt.

“So you’ll be here,” she taps a button and the door to one of the many sets of rooms along the hall slide open. Perhaps, once upon a time the gods envisioned more people would betray them. “Don’t mind the Kaminoans, they’re just beginning to come around to me. They’re peaceful, but don’t underestimate them.”

“I don’t belong here,” Ben sighs, a figure draped in wet black fabric, standing in the middle of a stark white room, turning back to face her. “Don’t—” he cuts her off when she opens her mouth to argue. “I didn’t do it.” There’s conviction in his voice, and Rey wonders at that. She doesn’t know exactly what he did, or what he claims not to have done, but she’s heard the whispers that someone is dead.

His expression is pained and his lower lip trembles just a bit before he clenches his jaw, but it’s not enough to temper his being. Hail begins to pelt the small durable windows in his room. A steady clatter of unexpected noise.

“You _need_ to stop doing that,” Rey insists, focusing to temper the storm into nothing more than steady heavy rain.

“How are _you_ doing that?” he asks, clearly annoyed. 

“Same way you are, I suppose.”

“No, there’s no way, I’m supposed to be the only one with this power.”

“Well, good news. Looks like you aren’t alone.” 

He looks like she slapped him and she eases out into the hallway. “Maybe we’ll finish the tour later. Get cleaned up, put on something dry. Come find me when you’re ready. Two doors down on the opposite side of the hall.”

She retreats, door hissing shut before he can respond and she bolts for her room. It’s a match to his, only with more stuff, a hint at a lifetime and more lived here. She climbs into her bed and burrows into the nest of bedding she’s been collecting, all the better to fortify this safe haven of hers. Pulling her knees up to her chest she rests her chin on them and closes her eyes.

The planet is always in a steady state of chaos. It’s nearly all ocean, ever moving, roiling, raging, and she can predict where storms and chaos will arrive next. She usually helps them along. With the arrival of Ben though, she feels it fighting against her and the normal state it exists in, Ben’s emotions tipping it over into a frothing wild thing, and it’s a little exhausting and more than a little frustrating. There’s an ice storm over Tipoca City, the nearest colony from the one they’re housed in, for the first time ever, and she pushes in there. The cold of the ice skitters across her skin, prickles against her cheeks, and she shivers, pulling her blankets higher up around her. A breath in to blunt the edges of the falling shards, a breath out to round and warm them until it’s gentle rain again. She lingers there, feels the spike of Ben’s presence and she digs in deeper until he fades away.

Blinking sluggishly she sighs, already tired and not looking forward to Ben’s extended stay if they can’t come to an agreement of some sort. There’s an order here, even among the storms, and Ben is testing its limits as well as her own.

He barges into her room, color high on his cheeks and chest heaving with every breath he takes. “Stop doing that.”

“No. You can’t just change the whole planet because you’re angry.”

“I can, and I will.”

Rey stands, sloughing off the blankets and crossing closer until she’s toe to toe with him. “I won’t let you. This is my home, and I’m not going to let you come in here and fuck it all up just because you fucked up.”

“Your _home?_ ” he spits the word and then laughs, bending down until he can look her right in the eye. “This isn’t your home, Rey. This is a prison, just because you’ve become complacent doesn’t mean it’s home now. And I didn’t fuck up. I was framed.”

Rey scoffs to hide the way she wants to recoil from the truth he speaks about her, but she shores up her anger instead. “Who would want to frame you?” she asks, with an exaggerated sneer. She knows how these things work. Eternity is a long time, it gets boring. A little murder always shakes things up for a few years at least.

It’s in the way his face crumples and pinches together all at once, the way his whole body sags as if it is suffering under a weight he can no longer continue to bear. “Forget about it. The High Courts refused to believe me, why would you be any different.” Another ice storm kicks up, and it knocks the breath out of her, but as soon as it’s there, before she can push back against Ben once more, it disappears. Ben’s jaw tightens and his fists clench at his side. 

He doesn’t leave though, remains rooted to the spot, staring at a place just over her shoulder. “You’ve been away for a long time, Rey,” he speaks the words softly and then his gaze drifts to lock on hers. “Things change.”

* * *

By all accounts it’s clear cut, the trial was only a formality to honor Leia, Ben’s mother. A storm rages outside, growing in strength as Rey reads article after article on the holopad she neglected and ignored. She can’t figure out who decided to drag out the trial for weeks on end and declare it a good thing for Leia to lose a son so soon after losing her husband at her son’s hand - Rey can’t figure that last bit out either, as far as she knew Ben and Han were on good terms. All of the reports say almost the same thing, how a son killed his father. That was the only fact, the rest was pure speculation and gossip and slander as everyone fell over themselves trying to find the reason _why_. But none of them were looking in the right place.

The constant pain and grief of Ben is as steady as the rain that falls outside; it refuses to let up in the weeks since he arrived here and Rey doesn’t have the heart to fight him on this small cluster of clouds. 

So it wears on her, the grief, more than the sudden surges of anger that whirl across the planet in fits and bursts.

It wears on her while she eats dinner, and meets with Toona and other representatives from the other colonies and cities. It wears on her while they complain about the storms, generations away from having to remember her early days on the planet, an angry, feral thing that nearly flooded every city the planet over when she arrived, and kept them isolated indoors with lightning striking their streets. She wanted them alone, just like she was, just like he is. It wears on her while she talks to Rose about anything and everything, while they gossip in her rooms, while they go through the latest shipments. It wears on her until she trudges to his room and knocks.

He opens the door, circles under his eyes and clothes beginning to sag on his large frame. “What do you want?” There’s no edge to his voice, and if it weren’t for the storms, she’d worry something had broken in him.

“Do you remember?” she asks, stalking into his room without waiting for permission, and whirling around to face him once she reached the center of it. “Once, long ago, a girl, a fledgling goddess came to be presented in Alderaan. There was feasting for weeks, and dancing, and gossip and probably an orgy or two.” Ben huffs, a small noise she pretends is a laugh, as she carries on. “The first night of revelry, the most important one, the Prince of Alderaan himself deigned to step down from the dais to dance. Not with anyone, but her. I’ve always wondered what he saw that day. If he noticed how she trembled like a leaf in the wind, if he could tell how coltish her legs were beneath her gown as if she had never used them before; if he noticed the rising panic in her that threatened to drown her.” 

She pauses to draw a breath and watch Ben sag onto his bed. “He asked her to dance, it was all anyone whispered about for days, which was absurd, really. A new goddess and all anyone wants to gossip about is a dance.” The corner of his mouth twitches and Rey feels warm air brush against her and the planet begin to settle.

“Do you remember?” She tilts her head and looks down at him. “What you said to me?” He blinks, surprised that this question doesn’t seem rhetorical and then slowly shakes his head. 

“You told me,” she says, crossing over to sink down next to him. “You told me to never let them see, to let them think I’m made of iron and stone and unbreakable. You told me a fair amount of other pretty things too, but I remember that, and I also remember the last thing you said to me. Do you remember?” Rey watches him, his breath shallow as they both recall those last moments of their dance. To anyone looking at them, she’s sure it would have seemed intimate, his mouth against her ear, bodies pressed close; perhaps an invitation back to his rooms, but it wasn’t.

“Stay away from Snoke,” he whispers the words, voice hollow and jagged. The name of the god lingers between them heavy and stifling. Lightning strikes outside and flashes through his room. Slowly his tongue sneaks out and wets his plump lower lip as he drags a deep breath in through his nose. “How?” He rasps, clenching his hands into fists. He blinks, a small furrow appearing between his brows, before his face clears once more. “What’s your point Rey? Of course I remember your presentation and granted ascension. I remember all of it, but why—” 

“Snoke.” She inspects her nails, looking bored when she’s anything but. “I know the things it takes to kill a god,” she confesses easily. A lifetime and more she’s had to deal with the consequences of what she did, Plutt was an evil lowlife, and when the Inner Rim kept refusing to do anything about it, she took matters into her own hands. “A shitty low level god,” she concedes, “but all gods bleed the same I suppose. I know you have to want it, more than anything, no matter the method. You said it yourself you were framed, so are you trying to deny it now?”

“No, but I—”

“No. So we’re going to find a way to clear your name.”

“Rey. They won’t listen.”

“Not yet, but they will,” she insists with a grin that has Ben swaying away from her and then looking up, blush high on his cheeks.

* * *

It takes time, but they have an eternity and more to get it sorted. Ben is content to ignore her most days, and she only interrupts him in doing whatever he does alone in his room all day when they fight through the storms. It’s a constant push and pull between them, and it grates on her nerves.

“It’s kind of romantic,” Rose muses, hands trailing over the plants in the greenhouse. A long and wide building made up of white lattices and transparisteel frames, while bulbs of false sunlight hovered in small lanterns in the places Rose wanted it most. Rey liked being in here when it rained, the steady fall against the roof was soothing.

“In what way?” Rey asks, passing over a pair of pruning shears when Rose gestures for them.

“In that equally matched sort of way. Plus, it’s Ben Solo. So what if he’s a criminal, you are too! You’ve already got a lot in common. I bet the sex would be otherworldly.”

“Rose, please.” Rey pushes her fingertips against her temples rubbing at a headache that’s just beginning to form as she watches her friend tend to the plants. Fresh blooms spring up in her wake, colors ripen, and the scent of the flowers fills the space. She’s seen Rose work plenty of times before, but the wonder of it never leaves her. Once Rey had asked her what it was like to make things grow like that, to bring tiny seeds to life that sprung up into brilliant blooms and vines and sources of fresh food. Rose had laughed and said it felt most like a long, deep sigh but coming from her fingertips and then asked Rey what it was like to summon storms. It’s so different from her own ability, but it suits Rose, just as Rey’s abilities suit her. She wouldn’t ever trade it, more than happy to watch.

“Okay, okay, but just think about it. Do you think the storms would settle if you finally had something to satisfy you beyond your hand?”

“ _Rose_.”

“You know what I’ve always liked? These night blooms. I just finally got permission from the Alderaanian council to plant these seedlings, they’re very secretive with their cultivation you know.” Rey doesn’t know but enjoys the sense pride emanating from her friend. “Come look. This is technically cheating, but—” Rose shrugs with a little half smile, fingers pushing into the dirt of the small bed tucked away in the back corner of the greenhouse. It takes a bit of time for Rose to coax them into bloom, but when they do Rey gasps and Rose grins. “Told you.” 

They collect as many as they can fit in the basket next to the other flowers already picked. Most will end up in Rose’s room, a few others will be given to some of their neighbors on Kamino. Rey takes thirteen. Holds them tight as she walks back to her room after leaving Rose to her own devices, and to avoid whatever she was going to say. There was a glint in the other woman’s eye and Rey heard enough for one day, she doesn’t need to hear about how Rose has noticed her making mooncalf eyes at the other deity down the hall for nearly five years now. She buries her nose in the softly glowing petals and inhales their fragrance. It tickles a memory, but she can’t quite place it, so she takes another deep breath. 

She rounds the corner to the hall where she lives and collides with a solid wall of muscle. Flowers and pollen explode between them and Rey stumbles back in surprise; Ben reaches for her, steadying her with a hand on her elbow.

“Sorry,” he says, and Rey’s nose twitches. His front is a smear of glowing blue, and several petals managed to cling to his hair. She sneezes and the corners of Ben’s mouth twitch up before settling into a flat line once more.

“It’s fine,” she says, sniffing back another sneeze. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He looks amused, she can see it in his eyes, and she reaches up to pluck a petal from his hair.

“Where did you get these?” he asks, catching her wrist and running a finger gently over the fading glow of the edges of the petal.

“Rose,” Rey answers easily and Ben hums, releasing her.

“She finally got permission then. Don’t tell anyone I just killed them all or I’ll be given another sentence for the muder of night blooms.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Rey says, and it makes Ben laugh, a sound she’s never heard before.

“Mostly joking, but my mother holds these flowers close to her heart. She cultivated them herself, cross breeding and pollinating until she got these.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“They are, and she doesn’t give the seeds to just anyone. Rose must have made quite the impression, and have quite the prowess, they’re not supposed to be in bloom yet, or during the day.”

“Rose didn’t give too many details,” Rey says with a shrug, “but I know she’s been trying to sway your mother to let her grow these off of Alderaan for decades now.”

“Like a rock to water,” Ben muses with a smile. “I know my mother liked her tenacity. Enjoyed her visits, she doesn’t invite everyone to stay for a few days after their annual meetings about their planets and powers.”

“Rose is like that. Sneaks in when you aren’t paying attention.”

Ben is still smiling as he reaches out to brush a strand of her hair from her face, a light blue incandescent shimmer falling through the air between them as he displaces the pollen. “She’s not the only one. Enjoy the rest of your day, Rey.”

She watches him walk away from her down the hall until he rounds the curve of it and disappears from her sight, before heading towards her room. Rey enters with an armful of empty stems, out of the corner of her eye she swears she sees a glimmer of sunlight, but when she turns to look out her window, there’s nothing but clouds.

* * *

Rey watches footage on the holopad, hidden away in her room long after night has fallen. Broadcasts from across the galaxy, mostly gossip, because gods and goddesses would rather gossip than worry about their charges. She doesn’t care about any of that though, she only cares about him.

Snoke looks as if the nature of his power is taking its toll on him. When she first met Snoke he was young, though she’s sure he was anything but. He looked it though, passing for maybe a mortal in their fifties, blue eyes and dark hair just beginning to turn grey. Now though, his features are gnarled and shrunken, his hair is gone. He looks frail for a god.

She trawls back through the little footage of him that exists, but it’s clear to see, he’s wasting away. Perhaps the cost of attempting to remove a god in power through subversive means is higher than he thought.

It should have been obvious.

Ben is in his room, like he always is, bent over some of the most expensive contraband she’s ever encountered. Parchment and ink. Finn brought some last month and Ben has been carefully using it. Rey doesn’t see the appeal, but Ben thought her hobby of taking tiny parts and building little animals out of them was ridiculous, so fair is fair.

“Ben,” she says, slipping in and seating herself at the foot of his bed. He grunts in acknowledgment but keeps writing. Rey waits.

“Yes, Rey?” Ben asks, finally straightening up and setting down his pen as he turns towards her.

Rey thrusts her holopad in Ben’s direction. “Snoke,” she says, watching him flinch away at the sight of the other god.

It’s been just over a year now since he’s come to be imprisoned here with her; just over a year that they’ve spent going back and forth with storms across the planet; just over a year since he insisted he didn’t do it. Now though, he looks defeated.

“Stay out of it, Rey.” He’s cold, shut off, face blank, but outside the clouds curl tight and grow heavy. “I’ve already gone to trial. It’s no use.”

“Liar. Look, Ben, I’ve been here mostly alone for a long time. I deserved it.” Her hand twitches, sometimes she can still feel the heavy wet weight of the heart she ripped out. “You — I don’t know how he did it, but I know it was him.”

“It was me. Haven’t you seen? I’m the one who put my father’s sword through his flesh.” The building shakes with the rumble of thunder and Rey stands, crossing to Ben. He tilts his head back to look up at her, and she hates how flat his gaze is.

“I’ve seen the broadcasts. But you told me — I believe you. I’ll help you, Ben, if you’ll let me, I know what it’s like to be alone, and you don’t have to be, not with this, not if you don’t want to be.” His cold veneer cracks and rain starts to fall. 

He stands, as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders, and shuffles over to his bed where he crawls into it, then reaches out for Rey. Hesitantly she perches on the edge, gasping in surprise when Ben wraps an arm around her and hauls her back. She leans against the wall and freezes when Ben lays his head in her lap. 

“It started a long time ago. By the time I realized what he had done, it was too late, I couldn’t get him out. None of the healers I went to could find anything wrong with me, my Uncle Luke thought I was crazy, because there was no way anyone, let alone a lesser god was able to latch on to me like some sort of parasite. But it was true.” 

It spills out of him over the course of a day, the whole awful thing. The way he found out that Snoke had been poisoning the roots of the flowers kept in his room, the way he found a way to enter Ben’s dreams. The paranoia Snoke built and built in Ben until Ben couldn’t take it anymore. Rey’s hands card gently through Ben’s hair as he clutches at her legs.

“Once it was done,” Ben whispers, “I could feel it, his withdrawal, and I was left with my father’s blood on my hands. Snoke moved fast, after my father died. In the beginning I wondered how he could do it, step up so easily into power, weaving his own narrative, of how I’m unstable and unfit to rule. But he had been working the whole time to achieve this end. And after, even with the things I knew, how he got to me, how he possessed me? There was no way for me to prove it, that he did it, through me.”

Rey can’t believe that’s entirely true, that there’s no way to prove what Snoke did to Ben, but she doesn’t say anything for a minute and then: “Do you want me to kill him? What’s another lifetime spent here?”

Ben snorts against her leg, and she feels the warm puff of his breath through her leggings, even as the rain begins to cease. “Don’t worry about me, Rey. I’ll figure something out.”

Rey yawns, but doesn’t tell Ben it was too late, that she’s been worrying about him. He’s not technically her charge, but Toona and the others leave them alone. There was no one else to care. “We’ll figure something out,” she corrects before yawning again . She’s determined to get up and go to her room, but she’s tired and comfortable right now, so just a few more minutes won’t hurt. Her hands keep their course through his hair and she feels him relax beneath her touch, surely it would be cruel to leave him right now. Another yawn escapes her and she shifts, relaxing further against the wall, and Ben lets out a quiet noise of discomfort. Glancing down she notices he’s asleep, with a small smile she lets her fingers trace the outline of his ear beneath his hair and tips her head back.

She wakes up, eyes flying open in panic, not knowing where she is or what time it is. A quick assessment and she realizes she’s on Ben’s bed, body pressed tight against his. She feels his nose pressed against the top of her head, the heavy weight of his arm across her waist. He’s solid against her back, curled around her completely, his own legs tucked up behind hers. “Kriff,” she hisses, fully awake now.

“It’s not that bad,” Ben says and Rey jumps a little, surprised that he’s already awake, his laugh is low and she feels it travel from his chest into her.

“It’s not,” she agrees, feigning nonchalance and rolling over in his embrace. “I just didn’t mean to sleep for long.” Her gaze drifts up over his shoulder to see the evidence of what she feels. A light grey sky with patches of dappled sunlight peeking through. 

“It’s fine.” His eyes are closed and he looks more relaxed than Rey’s ever seen him. She thinks, maybe she could kiss him, but she doesn’t. “I should go,” she says instead, and eases herself out of Ben’s grasp.

He catches her hand before she leaves. “Rey,” his voice is low, still raspy with sleep and she glances down at him. “What you said last night, you aren’t alone.”

Her lips quirk up in a soft smile and she allows herself a greedy touch. Thumb brushing slowly over the bumps of his knuckles as she breathes, “neither are you.” He lets her go then, hand slipping down to fall on his mattress and she leaves his room, heart racing. 

* * *

“I want to talk to you about Snoke,” Rey says, as she and Rose settle in to drink some tea in her room.

“Oh?” Rose asks, watching as Rey picks up her holopad. “What about him?”

“I think we can prove Ben is innocent.”

Rose leans forward with a blooming smile. “You have my attention.”

“Ben mentioned that it felt like someone was with him, in his head, controlling him; but that isn’t an ability Snoke has.”

“Right, just the lightning and diplomacy,” Rose says the last word mockingly and Rey snorts. “What does that mean though?”

“Palpatine. He can do that, it’s why he’s mostly on the fringes of the court and heavily monitored. He and Snoke both look terrible for gods, but more than that, Palpatine likes growing plants.”

“Don’t remind me,” Rose grumbles, “he asks me for advice all the time.”

“Sorry. My point is, before Han was killed, Snoke was below Palpatine. He was a mostly useless god. But at the same time a sickness was running through the courts. Remember? You came here for a year to hide out when that was happening.”

“Yes,” Rose nods slowly, “where are you doing with this?”

“Gods don’t get sick, Rose.”

“I know they — you think Snoke poisoned the gods?”

“No. I think Palpatine did, but Snoke found out and—”

“Blackmail!”

“Exactly. So do you think you could do it?”

“Trace a poison source? Absolutely I could do it, I’m due to visit Alderaan anyway, why not bring this to Leia’s attention, and get permission to do some digging with some help,” Rose says, sitting with Rey in her room, both of them holding cups of tea. “I might be the only one who could.”

“I know,” Rey agrees with a nod. “That’s why I asked.”

“There’s no guarantee I will find anything, and if I _do_ find anything, even less chance that they would believe me.”

“I know that too.”

Rose smiles. “Good. It sounds interesting, and like a fun way to flex my powers.” Rey laughs and Rose shrugs. “Look, it’s all fine and well to make flowers bloom from seemingly nothing, but to try and trace a poison in the soil? That sounds really fun. It’s been years since the murder, I bet it will be really deep.”

“Alright weirdo.”

“Yeah, yeah, like calls to like you know.” Rose finishes her tea and stands up. “Okay, I’ll go make preparations, I’ll keep in touch.”

“Thanks again Rose.”

“Of course! That’s what friends are for.”

Rey holds onto her cup of tea as her friend leaves and lets clouds gather outside her window. She’s nervous. This could all fail and be for nothing, and she could get Rose in trouble, as well as herself again, and Ben. 

* * *

When word comes from Rose in an attachment on a formal letter from the High Court two months later, Rey’s hands can’t stop shaking. Silently she hands the holopad over for Ben to read and she watches it slip from his fingers when he’s done. It clatters to the floor.

“They’re bringing me back. The new evidence — I could be found innocent. Snoke could finally face charges, and Palpatine too.” He’s not looking at her, so she takes the time to memorize his expression. Scared, yes, but that’s merely percolating beneath the surface, more than that he looks hopeful.

“I’m happy for you Ben,” Rey says, and she means it. Ben’s smile is bright when it focuses on her, and for a few minutes, all storms across the planet cease.

“Thank you, Rey — this? What you did for me? Thank you.”

“I told you, we would figure it out. Just because you didn’t believe me—” He interrupts her with a laugh, catching her up in a hug that she wants to sink into and never leave.

She does though, and so does he. The envoy arrives less than an hour later and she’s there on the landing pad, free of rain this time, to see him off.

When the ship breaks atmo, moments after it disappears from her sight, she feels the loss of him. The planet shifts subtly, and she can feel that it’s all hers again.

“You could have gone with him,” Toona says gently, her wide eyes regarding her carefully. “You’re not bound here any longer, Rey.”

Rey smiles up at the gentle Kaminoan, Rey has known her since she was a hatchling, but Toona has always exhibited that bottomless spring of knowledge and wisdom of her people. It makes Rey feel young, every time.

“I know, but I like it here.”

“You might fool the others, but I can see your fear. I’m sure the others have forgiven your crimes long ago and will not shun you. Besides, didn’t you tell me the god you killed wasn’t good? Perhaps they’ve realized you did them all a favor.”

“I don’t think it works like that.”

“You won’t know unless you leave.”

Rey shrugs. “I know. Maybe later. I didn’t want to be an imposition.”

Toona blinks down at her and then closes her eyes. “Fear.” One of her hands reaches up and she taps on Rey’s chest. “Don’t let it consume you.”

Rey doesn’t. She refuses to let it. She’s not afraid of anything, not anymore. She killed the one thing that stuck fear into her. Ripped the beating heart right out of him and watched his golden blood drip down her arm.

She is alone, though. Alone like she hasn’t been in a long time, now that Rose is on Alderaan for th trial, a key witness and expert. She scrolls through updates about the trial as it drags on. One month, then another and another. And then the verdict comes in. Ben is innocent, Snoke is guilty, and she has a mild pang of panic that Snoke will be sent here. 

They don’t though. They bind him up in silver chains and lower him into the sarlaac pit. Rey can’t remember the last time it was used for a criminal, and neither can anyone else. It’s all anyone is talking about on the holonet.

The thrill of victory Rey feels is a hollow ache at best. She misses Rose — of course she does — but she misses Ben more. The ache of missing him is solid and heavy, and manifests in rough storms while she sleeps and the ones while she’s awake are harsh and angry things. Toona tells Rey she can taste her sadness in the rain after two weeks have passed. She misses wrestling with him over the control of the rain and the wind, and now it’s just her, and the steady beat of rain against her window, more intense now in the depths of her grief, and the slow trickle of tears upon her cheeks. She realizes he never said if he would come back.

* * *

It takes another month for Rey to come to a decision to leave and explore the galaxy and hopefully get her mind off of Ben. She’s languishing here on Kamino and it’s time to confront that. She’ll be back, this is her home after all, but Toona and Rose have told her before and she’s sure they’ll tell her again that she’s allowed to leave. She’s terrified of leaving, because what if Ben comes back, but she’s also terrified to stay, because what if he never does.

She examines a map of her old home, deciding that when she does leave that she will visit there first. It’s been weeks of internal back and forth and sporadic lightning storms sprouting from her fear and anger at her allowing Ben in, making her weak like this. Fingers trace of the edge of the planet as she attempts to push Ben from her mind again. It breaks her heart to know it’s no longer an oasis but a barren desert, she wonders if she could restore it, and how long it might take. She’s making notes on places to inspect on Jakku when the storms across Kamino flicker out in an instant. Rey drops the map in shock and stands, looking out the window to confirm what she already knows, but is too afraid to hope.

A ship approaches the landing pad. Rey turns and rushes from her room and through the hall, skidding out onto the still rain soaked platform as the ship lands.

He’s there, alone this time in the mouth of the ship and Rey hesitates for only a moment before running towards him. He catches her in his arms, hoisting her up until her legs wrap around his waist and he laughs against her neck as she hugs him fiercely. 

“You came back,” she whispers in awe, refusing to relax in his grip, lest he see the tears shining in her eyes.

“Didn’t you know? I’ll always come back for you, sweetheart.” Rey laughs, a wet sound as she begins to cry. The happiest of tears she’ll insist later when he asks, but right now all she cares about is him.

“Ben,” she says his name against the shell of his ear and she feels his hands squeeze her thighs tighter. Her lips find his in a gentle caress as the sun breaks through the clouds.


End file.
